Watching Always Watching
by theoriginalmeathead
Summary: OneShot. POV of Boo Radley...His thoughts at the time he came up with the idea to leave the presents in the tree for Scout and Jem...as well as some other thoughts of his...PLEASE R


Hi everyone...this is just a little thing that I wrote for an English assignment...it's in the POV of Boo Radley and it's the first time that he comes up with the idea for the little presents in the tree...

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize...I do not own! Everything else...I do!

**Watching. Always watching.**

I sit in my house. Watching. Always watching. Never doing. Never denying the tales they had been told. Ah. Them. Jem and Scout. I know that I shouldn't, but I always think of them as my children. I watch them so much that I probably know them better than most of their friends, including that boy Dill. The tales that they have heard about me cause me to influence their life almost as much, if not more than, their father. They are the one thing in my life that has not changed. _They_ remain consistent. I shudder. I hate inconsistencies.

My brother is an inconsistency but I do not hate him. I shudder again. Another inconsistency in my life.

The moment I was hauled off to court my brother changed. It was as if he no longer trusted me, thinking I was a criminal, sure I had done the deed but I wasn't truly bad. I knew my brother was a big believer in what was right and wrong. I was stupid and careless enough to believe that we wouldn't get caught; it had been done only as a harmless joke. When the sheriff came to our house to pick me up I caught my brother's eye as I was dragged away. His eyes were cold, mistrusting and I knew from that day on that things between us had changed and they would never be the same.

He left soon after, going to who knows where. The cheerful spirit, who had once encouraged me, played with me and comforted me disappearing with him. Now he is a shell, empty of emotions and it breaks my heart to see him like this, because _I_ remember when we were children, even though he seemingly doesn't. We were free-spirits, but inseparable. We were close, as close, if not closer then how Jem and Scout are now. I suppose that is why I have such a keen interest in them.

It kills me inside knowing that I can't change their views about me. No matter how much they listen to their father and Maudie Atkinson trying to dispel the rumours that have been fed to them about me. I know they will always believe them to some extent...unless I give them signs. Of course, they would have to be small, and unobtrusive, something that my brother would not notice, but my children would. The signs would have to be subtle. Very subtle.

I get up from my straight-back brown chair and sink into the red, faded, moth eaten, armchair by the window. I peek out the window just in time to see my children run past. Lunch must be over. It is time for them to return to school. My Scout will return first, running past my house, venting some of the frustration she has stored up from being stuck inside. Her brother will use the same path just a half-turn of the clock later.

My eyes follow the path that I assume they will take. I sigh. If only there was some way to communicate with them. The long unused clogs of my brain start turning, and my eyes are moving of their own accord. They run over and over my assumed path that Scout will take. It hits me.

The trees. The old distorted things that they are, they would have knot holes, especially in the lower half of the trees. There would be room enough to put maybe, a little...present there? Some thing that would show them that I am not the monster I am made out to be. I had been confined to my house by fear of my father and his actions and with his death I no longer had the wish to see the outside world. A tribute to his death I suppose. The day he died was the last day I spoke through words. My brother and I no longer communicate.

But I am getting side-tracked. The present has to be small and something that catches the eye. What can attract that type of attention?

Tin-foil.

But, what to wrap in it? This question I am having difficulty answering. Then suddenly I realize, it is so simple!

Chewing gum.

I rise swiftly and retrieve two pieces of chewing gum and a decent size piece of tin-foil from the kitchen. I carefully unwrap the outer layers of the chewing gum and wrap the pieces in the tin-foil. I slip silently out the front to the trees. I quickly find a knot that looks like it would be around Scout's eye-height. I swiftly place my present there and slide back inside the house, just as silently as I had left it and sit back down in my faded armchair, no-one the wiser. A hint of a smile creeps over my face.

My first smile since my father's death.

Word Count: 809

In the persona of: Boo Radley

Love Sam...PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!


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